


Revel In Thy Wrath

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Demon Summoning, Domestic Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Romantic Friendship, gender neutral reader, soft papa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Years after the events of The Call, you summon the demon of wrath, Papa Emeritus II, out of anger toward an abusive ex, whom Papa helps you take care of.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus II & Reader, Reader/Jeff Hardkin (past)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Revel In Thy Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> Requested through that one site, Kobiachi-Firu. Inquire about yours on my tumblr, @kissthegoghuleh.

If looks could kill, the goldfish on the dresser would be a fish stick.

It’s nothing the poor fish had done of course; you’re fuming silently in bed from the twelve messages your ex had sent you. The anger you feel is the only thing keeping you from another night of crying yourself to sleep. Jeff had been begging you to take him back all day through the messages he was sending to your alternate account (one you had forgotten to block him on). He had called you the worst things you could possibly imagine, telling you you’d never find anyone like him, that he would find you and make sure you felt as awful as he did.

Nothing could ever be as awful as your time with him was.

You curl in on yourself, hugging your blankets closer to your chest. On nights like these, it’s incredibly hard to fall asleep. Old painful memories and the fear you couldn’t entirely banish from the back of your mind keeps you awake, staring at the ceiling, staring at your goldfish Frank, and wondering if you had made a mistake leaving the financial security of that relationship.

 _Of course it hadn’t been a mistake to leave!_ Jeff had been abusive, verbally and sometimes physically, and you’re lucky you had the clarity to see that before it was too late. You squeeze your eyes shut, fists clenching and unclenching in the sheets. It drove you mad, how he could manipulate your mind even when he wasn’t around anymore.

Finally resigning yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t get a good sleep (or any sleep, at this rate), you try to push the hateful messages he’d sent you out of your mind as you get out of bed. Checking the bathroom mirror, you grimace at the bags under your eyes. 3 AM? Perfect time for a walk.

Grabbing your coat and keys, you head out the door and toward the nearby forest. Yeah, it was a terrible idea to go walking in the middle of the night with no one around to see where you’ve gone, but you’d made it this far in life. It’s almost laughable to you. What’s a midnight stroll, when you feel as numb as this?

You had considered finding someone else. Someone to replace Jeff, someone to show you that not everyone out there was like him. But you didn’t want anything to lead to that again, and if you’re too quick to enter into a new relationship you’d deduced, then it was more likely that person could take advantage of you. That’s your worst fear—someone using you and pretending to care about you.

The woods seem to get darker with each step further in, the moon shrouded in cloud tonight. Some of the brighter stars light your path, but it’s still hard to see much of anything. Putting your hand out in front of your face, you just keep walking. You know this forest pretty well, so it would be fairly hard to get lost even in the dark.

As you continue walking, the moon finally shows itself from behind the clouds. It’s made a full appearance by the time you get to a clearing, and the moonlight beaming down over the forest floor lights up a single stump. Figuring you could use a rest, you head over to sit, but discover a book on top of the stump usurping your resting spot. The discovery is leather bound, with no visible title or markings on the front. Picking it up in curiosity, you flip it open.

The pages themselves have odd markings on them. Some pages have names scrawled on them. One has two names in glimmering gold and purple cursive, under a scrawled year _1978_ :

_Bram Crestwick_

_Angie Sutherland_

You frown, and keep looking through after taking a seat atop the stump. Is it a journal of sorts? You come upon a page finally with an intricate design, and an odd sense of rage fills you. This looks similar to a tattoo that Jeff has on his back, and it’s engrained in your mind as the symbol you stared at while glaring at his back in bed all those years, shaking with loathing and despair. Rage burns inside you as you trace the sigil a few times. You accidentally slice your finger on the page’s edge, and a few drops fall over top of the drawn sigil. Lifting your wound up to your mouth to suck, you don’t notice the sigil beginning to glow silver and emerald. You go to toss the book in favour of the rest of your walk through the dark... when a rumbling in the ground stops you.

The trees seem to shake around you. You look up, and what was previously a glowing white moon has turned a hellish red. The clouds surrounding it seem to burn orange, and you wonder for a moment if you’d launched yourself into some kind of hellish underworld—you’d been disassociating so hard these past few weeks, it wouldn’t surprise you—but a voice distracts you from these possibilities.

“Cosa cerchi?”

You whip around to see who or what said that, but you can’t see anything there. Whispering to yourself over what the voice might have said if anything had really spoken at all, you hear it again behind you on the other side. The voice seems to rumble up through the ground all around you.

“What do you seek, child?”

You yelp this time, and turn. Still nothing! You shut your eyes and try to calm down. You’re only hearing things. That’s all. You just need to get home, get back into bed and have a nice long sleep, with or without the help of some sleeping pills. Having calmed down, you take a breath.

When you open your eyes this time, he’s there.

A skull painted ghostly apparition, in long black robes. You nearly scream again, but suddenly he’s behind you, black leather glove clamped over your mouth as a deep chuckle vibrates through your back from his chest.

“Have you summoned me only to scream, little one?” You breathe out shakily, and he steps back and around in front of you. Surveying the surroundings, he hums in displeasure. “No offerings.” You blink, and he’s suddenly standing right in front of your face, inches away. "I am extremely difficult to harness. The hardest of my brothers. If you do not summon me for a purpose, I come for _you_."

Everything catches up to you: the messages, the emotional labour, and now the demon you’d accidentally summoned to harvest your bedraggled soul. You can’t help it—you break down crying on your knees. The being stands there for a moment. After an awkward few seconds, he attempts to take a step toward you. His theatrics disappear, and the trembling in the ground seems to cease.

“What is this display, child? Hm?” He sighs, taking another step toward you begrudgingly. “Stop. Papa does not like to see you cry, unless it is by my hand.”

“What did you call yourself?” you sniffle, looking up at the skull painted creature.

“I am a Papa of an ancient Church. Myself and my brothers are princes of Hell, you see. My little brother, the demon of Lust. People summon him out of desire, for escapades he is well versed in. My elder brother is envy. He gives people what they covet, through whatever means necessary.” You swallow nervously.

“And you?”

He bows his head, the shadows overtaking his one white eye. “I am the demon of wrath, child. Such is what you summoned me with.” You scramble back a little, and he puts his gloved hands up. “I do not intend to scare you. I see that had a poor effect.”

“You’re terrifying,” you mutter, trying to get to your feet. His lips turn up slightly as he reaches a hand for you to take for help up.

“I thank you.” He hesitates. "Why have you come out here, to me? Did you hear of the book, and find it?"

"No!" you reply firmly. "It was an accident that I found it out here. I didn't seek you out or anything."

"Yet, here I am."

You click your heels together. "Yeah. Well, I was out walking... and, here _I_ am. I guess we’re both somewhere we shouldn’t be."

"You haven't answered my question. Why?" You look off past him, then down.

"I'm..." You sigh. "I just needed to get out of the house, walk off a few things.” Papa raises a deeply arched eyebrow, and you roll your eyes.  
“My ex, Jeff. He keeps texting me, and threatening me. He used to be really shitty to me. You know what I mean?" Papa nods, eyes softening. “I thought I was rid of him when I left him. Guess not.”

"Can you intimidate him out of your life?" Papa asks. You bark out a laugh.

"You don't know Jeff." Papa considers things for a moment.

"Would you like me to know Jeff?" You turn to look at him, and he raises that meaningful eyebrow again. His white eye seems to stare right into your soul, and it unnerves you into shaking your head.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to summon you, or... I didn't mean to drag you up out of Hell for nothing. I was just curious."

"Hell is a beacon for the curious," he tells you stoically. You shake your head, scoffing.

"Okay... fucking, Pinhead. I'll just be going now, this was fun." Papa doesn't say anything; just watches you as you bring the book back to the log. Without a look back, you head off to walk back the way you came through the woods.

Just as you're about to leave them 10 minutes later, you bite your lip. _You really had seen what you'd seen back there, huh?_ If the Papa had enough power to make an entrance like that, think of all he could do to get back at that asshole who had taken so much from you. Biting your thumbnail, you turn back and reconsider. You walk through the woods, even colder now, until you make it back to the stump.

The book is gone.

Shit.

"I'm sure it was here," you speak aloud. "Unless I just imagined the whole thing out of sleep deprivation." Or, he could have taken it with him. That seemed more likely—you hadn’t had much sleep lately, but you find it hard to accept that you would hallucinate a whole conversation and a tangible object that had summoned something. So, he took it then. Opportunities like this only come once in a lifetime (or beyond, as the case may be) and it seemed you had missed yours once again.

"You know, it is a simple spell to summon me back."

You turn in shock to see the skull-painted demon leaning against the tree, book open in his hands. You regard it in his gloved hands. He looks up from the page, and snaps it shut. You walk over to him, to the outstretched arm with the book offered out. Looking into wrath's mismatched eyes, you take it as his lips part to speak.

“Keep it in mind.”

\--

_Mind, mind, mind, mind..._

"What is on your mind, fratello?"

Secondo’s younger brother pulls him from his thoughts. He looks up as Terzo approaches from their hellish surrounding. The older of the two hesitates before answering, but figures it wouldn’t hurt to share at least a little bit.

"A human. They summoned me. It was an accident, but their story intrigued me. I’m afraid I can’t stop thinking about it.”

"Did you carry out their wishes?" his older brother asks, appearing behind him.

"I couldn't. They didn't wish anything of me."

"Then that is that," the eldest, Primo, tells him. He sits down, shrugging in his frail manner. "We are summoned, we attend to their needs, and we return.”

"All the happier," Terzo smirks.

"Some of us do not take as much enjoyment from our sin," Primo scowls at him. “Our memories of the people we help Secondo, are not made to survive the ticking of time." Secondo isn't listening. He's busy thinking of the wrath he had felt inside of you the night before... and the unbearable fear that only strengthened it.

\---

Jeff turns the corner, dings the bell by the kitchen counter obnoxiously until the waitress closest to him turns.

"This!" he snaps. "This is all you've gotta do to expedite. Tell the line cooks to hurry their ass on table 3, that's not my job."

She bites her tongue, and casts her eyes past the manager of the restaurant. "Sure, Jeff. Sorry."

"Dammit. I gotta do everything around here, don't I? Come on, move it, honey."

From the booth in the corner, a bald man with a mustache looks up from his cup of coffee and over his dark sunglasses. If you asked the locals or the regulars of the diner, he was new in town; they'd never seen him before. In reality, he was just passing through to get a look... simply because he couldn't bring himself to stay away even if he wanted to.

The man at the table, the very same demon of wrath, lifted a finger to flag the passing manager down. The waitress who had been berated and a coworker of hers congregated by the kitchen, whispering and smiling about the handsome older man.

"He looks like he's super rich," one waitress whispers.

"He looks so sophisticated," the other giggles.

"He looks like he'd be amazing in bed," the chef cuts in between them, leaning over the counter. The two girls sigh in agreement.

Over by the table, Jeff notices the man with his fingers up. He takes a moment to straighten his tacky clip-on tie and slick his greasy hair back. This guy looked like Mr. Moneybags with those Ray Bans and that three piece suit... maybe he could charm a fat tip out of him.

"What can I do for you sir?" he smiles.

"Jeffery, si?" Papa asks, folding his napkin beside his plate.

"Yeah. Uh, I mean yes sir. That's my name, but you can call me Jeff." Your ex's name echoes in Papa's head as if he had just heard you say it. He nods once. This is the man he's looking for. Though his brothers had called him a pushover for it, Secondo hadn't been able to ignore your turmoil. Although you hadn't called to him or summoned him again, the reality was that he had come to care what happened to you. This odious man here was the root of all your problems. Papa tries not to growl his words out, maintaining a friendly lilt he had all but lost since becoming the patron demon of all consuming anger.

"Jeff, grazie. Would you be so kind as to sit for a moment?"

Jeff hesitates. He has at least five other tables he's got to go and check on to make sure they don't leave this place a shitty review. Still, he stamps the frustration down and takes a seat. Papa nods, sliding his sunglasses off and tucking them in his breast pocket. Jeff frowns, unease filling him. The man's eyes are two toned, one a deep green and one pure white. Maybe he was blind in the white one. Jeff stares into it rudely as Papa speaks again, smoothing his thumb over his mustache idly.

"I've been led to believe we have a mutual friend. You must remember them. You two have dated before." Jeff's friendly demeanour begins to fade into irritation.

"So? What about them?"

"I was wondering if they were doing alright."

"What do you care? You fucking them or something?"

"If I was, would it be a problem?" Jeff stands up, jerking the table as he does.

"Hell yeah, buddy. That's my partner." Papa remains utterly calm, taking another long sip of his coffee.

"Not anymore, if what they say is anything to go by. I choose to believe them, I think."

"You got your hands all over my main lay didn't you, you greasy Italian fuck?" Jeff growls. Papa flashes him a withering look.

"Despite the fact that they are not yours, I haven't touched them. You, on the other hand, have touched them too much."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! Why are you so fucking interested in that waste of space?"

Papa's nostrils flare, drumming his fingers in growing impatience. "I am interested in them simply because, for some unknown reason, I seem to care about their wellbeing."

"Care about your own damn business, somewhere else."

"I haven't finished my coffee. And we haven't finished our talk."

"Look. Get the fuck outta here," Jeff snaps. "Before I beat your ass."

"You are going to beat my ass, eh?" Papa mutters, crumpling up his napkin and throwing it in his coffee cup. "Bene. Andiamo." The waitresses all gasp at what they see.

In a blink, Jeff suddenly finds himself out back of the diner. He looks around in confusion, but before he can get his bearings, hands grab him by the lapels out of nowhere. Papa is in his face, snarling. Pure, palpable anger is emanating off of him, so much so that his skin is heating up.

"You leave them alone, do you hear me?" he growls, his voice rumbling the ground around them. His white eye seems to glow as he grows angrier. For a moment, Jeff feels a flicker of fear. He quickly talks himself out of that.

"Get off me, old man." Papa lets him go for a moment, shaking his head and chuckling.

"'Old man.' Feh. Fuck you, man." Papa lands a punch right to Jeff's chest, knocking him back into the back brick wall of the diner. Jeff coughs up specks of blood, holding a hand over his heart which surely just skipped a beat from the supernatural force of the man's strength. As Jeff is recovering, Papa strides back over to him, holding his head up as he pins him to the wall. With his free hand, Papa takes the cigarette from behind Jeff's ear, puts it in his mouth, and lights it with his finger alone. As he drags, he takes his sunglasses out of his breast pocket and slips them on. Papa takes the cigarette and hovers the orange glow of the burning end right in between Jeff's eyes.

"I would burn you alive if I could, _stronzo_. But I have not been summoned to." He extinguishes the cigarette with a hiss on the wall beside the shaking Jeff. _"Yet."_

The demon lets the man go with a shove, and disappears as Jeff blinks again, leaving behind only the scent of expensive cologne and the slightest hint of sulphur.

"I'll come for you," Jeff mutters, wiping the blood from his lip with vengeance in his eyes that rivals Papa's demonic namesake. "And my partner too. Them too."

\---

You can't stop thinking about him. The spectre in the woods. The _demon_ in the woods. You had summoned a demon. Right. You did that.

You try to get that fact through your head. Prior to last night, you hadn't even thought they existed. Now, you're holding the book you had found, one that possesses ancient secrets, curses, spells. Things that really shouldn't be messed with.

You set aside the decidedly macabre bedtime reading, and try to clear your head before drifting off to sleep into your first dream of the night.

_You hadn't meant to do it. The water glass had been in your hands, but it had slipped. Unfortunately for you, it had slipped right over top of Jeff's laptop. Water dribbles down onto the floor around it, and you wait for the sparks to shoot and the fire to start. This never happens, which gives you hope._

_After mopping up the mess and dumping rice all over it (didn't that work for phones? Must work for computers too right?!) you had been able to turn it on again. For better or for worse, it had opened on the last window Jeff had shut it down on. A chat room._

_Nervously, you regard the open page. It's none of your business, but something compels you to check if perhaps it is. You scan down the names, and see your boyfriend's with someone else. Flirtatious messages back and forth, some getting rather explicit, jump out at you. No denying it anymore._

_The front door opens. Jeff tosses his name tag and wad of tips on the table by the entryway._

_"Babe!” You don’t answer. You listen closely as he hangs up his jacket, takes off his shoes and tries again. “Hey! Gonna give me a kiss, or what? Missed you!" You can't close the lid in time. He narrows his eyes as he comes around the corner to see you touching his laptop. "What the fuck is this?"_

_"I... it was an accident."_

_"You're snooping through my shit, huh?"_

_"No, Jeff— I spilled some... well, that was an accident too."_

_"Get over here." You try and muster up some courage._

_"I saw what you were been doing."_

_"You sneaky little bitch."_

_Your voice trembles as you back away. "You're the sneaky one. How long has this been going on?"_

_"That's my business."_

_"I'm your fucking partner!" Jeff lunges forward, and grabs you by the hair._

_"That's right," he growls. "So what are you gonna do about it?" He tugs your hair hard as you start to sob._

_"I'M LEAVING YOU! I'M LEAVING YOU, JEFF!"_

Your own piercing shout jostles you from the dream. You finally lay down in bed again, sighing. If only you could forget the pain he'd caused you. Other survivors say it's hard... but at least you're trying. Are you even a survivor? Yes. Don't deny yourself that.

Your thoughts drift back to Papa. You really shouldn’t be depending on him. He was a demon, and would easily leave you if he didn’t get what he wanted. Your worst fears would come true then, and you couldn’t risk it. He doesn’t care about you... only what he’s obligated to do if bound to do so.

Thinking of your happy place until you feel somewhat comfortably relaxed, you start to doze again. Out of nowhere, you start to think about the woods again, and the mysterious being you'd summoned by accident. He didn't make you feel afraid, or intimidated. Despite what he was and how much power he had over you, you only felt safe around him.

Your mind crosses the threshold into sleep once more.

_You wake up in a room. It's devoid of anything too eye catching-- stone walls, eroded gargoyles above and crosses inverted hanging from the ceiling. As you look closer at the details of the room however, you see between the cracks of the stone, a fiery sort of aura beyond._

_"You're dreaming."_

_You turn around to look. This time, he doesn't play tricks. Papa is standing behind you. He comes to stand next to you._

_"Is this Hell?" you breathe._

_"No." You're not sure you believe him._

_"Where are your brothers? You mentioned them."_

_"You would rather talk to my fratellos than me?" he asks, light humour in his voice. "I see. I should have known. I am the strict one. Nobody enjoys my company."_

_"Wait," you laugh, your voice coming out in some kind of hellish slur. "No, I was just curious. I haven't seen a lot of demons before. That's why I asked."_

_"They look like men, when they choose to. Like me. So as not to frighten people who summon them.”_

_"You sure scared me when you showed up to me." He shrugs._

_"I do not concern myself with the trivialities of fear. If you fear me after I tell you who I am, the summoning was a mistake."_

_"I'm not afraid of you," you find yourself saying. Papa smiles, cups your chin._

_"You shouldn't be, child. I would go to Hell and back to protect you... if you let me."_ Just as you're about ask what he means, you feel the walls close in around you, and the all consuming darkness wakes you up with a jolt.

The faint smell of expensive cologne fills your bedroom.

\---

It had been two nights.

You had once again been looking through the book, to regain the sense of security Papa had given you in the dream. Just as you're about to stick the demonic relic at the back of your shelf, your phone rings on the coffee table. You walk over to pick it up, figuring it might be a friend of yours. The number is unknown, but you still answer out of curiosity.

"He--"

"You blocked me, you little asshole."

Your heartbeat picks up. "Jeff. How did you—?"

"Burner phone. Apparently that's the only way to talk to my fucking partner."

"Ex partner," you mutter.

"What?!"

"Don't call me again.”

"If you hang up on me, I'm going to come over there and teach you a lesson!" Your finger is on the end call button before his screaming reaches peak aggression. Whimpering to yourself, you wonder if he'll make good on that threat. Knowing Jeff, he will.

Your eyes dart to the book. You open it, flip through the pages. Most of it is in Latin, and what little you can derive from it, it seems diabolical. Jeff's threat echoes in your mind again. You remember Papa's imposing presence. His promises. You didn’t even know how to summon him on purpose. Maybe you could figure it out. Just as you get to the page you had accidentally summoned Papa from and contemplate using the sigil, your door unlocks. You let out a noise, backing away to the window. Jeff comes in, dangling a spare key you forgot he still had.

“Hey, babe.”

You try to run, but your finger gets caught on a sharp splinter of the window pane. Two tiny drops of blood fall onto the page of the book, and you snatch it up into your arms from the ground.

"Don't pretend like I'm scary," he snaps, advancing on you. "Don't pretend like I'm the bad guy here. You threw me out, after what? I didn't fucking do anything!"

"You did a lot," you snap. His nostrils flare.

"Still rewriting history, huh?" He takes the remote off the couch beside him, and lifts it up. The injustice and frustration burns within you, and turns into the deepest, most furious anger as your finger drags down the length of the page. How dare he treat you like this? He should have hell to pay.

The ceiling starts to rumble. Bulbs burst around you, and you stand away from the window. It's the next to go, glass shattering.

"What the hell?!" Jeff shouts. Papa appears in a blink beside you, and his eyes widen even more. "Who...?" Before he can finish the sentence, Papa's gone. You see a bony hand curl around Jeff shoulder, and Papa is behind him, snarling in his ear.

“I told you I would return.”

“You!” You pause.

“You’ve met?”

“This sick asshole was in the diner! He... he fucking threatened me, came asking for you!”

Your heartbeat picks up. Papa cared enough to come and look after you, even when you hadn’t asked him to?

Jeff sees the blazing fire at Papa’s fingertips, and turns back to you. The desperation in his eyes is palpable, drawing you back into the moment. “Babe. Baby! I’m so sorry. You know how sorry I am.” Papa’s eyes meet yours, waiting for you to carry out his sentence. “Come on. You know how much I love you. I used to tell you every night, remember?” Your breath hitches. “Let me tell you again. Just please tell him not to hurt me.”

You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. When you open, Jeff is turning away from you to beg the demon who awaits your decision. Your eyes focus on the tattoo you know so well on his back... the sigil of wrath. “I don’t want to hear another sorry, Jeff.” You lift your chin. “You won’t mean it.”

Papa’s lips turn up in a devilish grin behind Jeff, and your horrible ex drops down to his knees, beating the floor. His scream rings out as fire consumes him from the feet up, as if he were burning at an invisible stake. Soon, nothing is left of him or what he used to be.

"I will see him in Hell," Papa growls. You feel lightheaded from the sight you had just witnessed, and darkness begins to consume your vision. The last thing you feel is warm, robed arms surrounding you as you fall.

You wake up to covers tucked around your neck and sun streaming through the window. A single flower is in a jar next to you, though it's considerably withered. You smile slightly at the gesture, confusion hitting you as you wonder who could be responsible. Trying to sit up, you startle when you hear a bump in the kitchen. Who had invited themselves into your home? A wave of panic hits you as you wonder if you had somehow taken Jeff back... then the events of last night come back to you. The begging. The screaming. The fire.

You let yourself smile for real for the first time in a year.

Seconds later, you find the demon of wrath bringing a steaming plate of breakfast in to you— and it doesn't look half bad.

"You prepared this?" you ask. “For me?”

"Si," the demon nods solemnly. "The perfect Italian breakfast. I used to make this for my brothers and myself when we were men." He takes a bite of something he had made himself, and groans. “Ah. The simple pleasures of earthly delights. It has been centuries since I have eaten this.” He takes a seat on a chair beside you, where he had obviously been watching you sleep. That wasn't... creepy or anything. You find yourself smiling however. You still feel safe around him, even though you really shouldn't considering what he is, and what you saw him do to Jeff last night. But it was a massive relief he _had_ done it. Finally, the revenge you deserved.

You moan through the first bite of food just as he had, and Papa smiles.

"I was hoping you would like it." You nod, and reach out to take his hand. The gesture surprises him, but the crow's feet crinkle kindly around his mismatched eyes. You speak softly.

"I didn’t think you cared.”

“Because I’m a creature of Hell?”

“Because no one ever cares.”

“Well. I am not among those unfortunate people, si?”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “Thank you for getting rid of him, Papa." He hums.

"It was you who took care of that fool, dolce. Your anger is what summoned me. Your fury is what propelled you. Your wrath is what rid yourself of him.” He squeezes your hand. “I am so proud of you, tesoro.”

You blush, and look over at the time. “You, uh... got a day job in Hell?” Papa frowns, munching on the rest of his own breakfast.

“No.”

“Good. I was kind of hoping you’d stay.”


End file.
